


Moving Toward Something More

by mithrel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blanket Permission, M/M, Podfic Welcome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-28
Updated: 2010-03-06
Packaged: 2017-10-31 00:54:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/338115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mithrel/pseuds/mithrel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A progression of two relationships.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Scavenger Hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone is messing with Sam's computer.

Sam pulled out his laptop one day and something clattered onto the floor. Picking it up, he saw it was a 1-gig memory module. There was another in the case.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?” his brother called from the bathroom.

“Did you buy more memory for my laptop?”

“More what?”

Sam sighed. “Never mind.” He didn’t really think Dean had bought it–he didn’t know anything about computers and tended to fill the thing with viruses whenever he used it. And Sam knew _he_ didn’t buy it. They had more important things to spend their money on.

His computer was old, and it could definitely use more RAM. The packages hadn’t been opened, so it was probably safe.

When he installed them he half expected to get the BSOD or for the hard drive to start erasing, but nothing happened.

***

A few weeks later Sam lost one of his favorite knives going after a kelpie. Since he nearly drowned he wasn’t going to complain. He had other knives after all.

But when they were collecting everything before checking out he saw it sitting with the rest of his stuff.

Baffled, he picked it up. As he examined it he realized it wasn’t his knife; the handle wasn’t worn enough and it didn’t have the small chip in the blade from when he’d fought off that werewolf when he was sixteen. This was new, but it looked just like his old knife.

Once was bad enough, but this suggested something was following him around. He didn’t think Lucifer would be giving him a weapon, even if it wouldn’t work on him, and besides, they were protected from angels.

“Dean?”

His brother looked up from zipping his duffel. “Yeah?”

“Check this out.”

Dean examined the switchblade Sam handed him. “’S a knife. So?”

“It’s just like the knife I lost yesterday.”

“Sure it isn’t the same one?” Dean asked.

“I think I’d know my own knife, Dean,” Sam scoffed. “The knife I went after the kelpie with is at the bottom of Skeller Lake. This one’s new, it just looks like my old one. And I found two 1-gig memory modules I didn’t buy in my laptop case three weeks ago.”

“You think someone’s following us?” Dean’s eyes narrowed.

“Or something, yeah. But how? I mean, Cas made it so the angels can’t see us.”

“Maybe it is Cas,” Dean suggested.

“But why would he leave it? Why not just give it to me himself? No, it’s someone else.”

“Lucifer?”

“If Lucifer knew where we were we wouldn’t be having this conversation,” Sam pointed out.

Dean nodded. “True. But how are they finding us? For that matter, how are they getting in? We put wards up!”

Sam shrugged. “I dunno, man. At least so far they seem harmless.”

“So far,” Dean muttered darkly.

***

When Cas came by they asked him about it, but he had no more idea than they did. They beefed up the wards, and nothing else appeared in their rooms. Sam breathed a sigh of relief.

At the moment they were stuck on a case. A family in Colorado was killed in their beds. They were pretty sure it was some sort of vengeful spirit, but they couldn’t find any leads. Sam booted up his laptop to do some more research only to find the homepage had been set to a copy of a newspaper article from the seventies.

_The body of Molly Salinger, 29, of Briggsdale, was discovered off Rd 90 today. Salinger went missing from her home three months ago. She was reported missing by her fiancé Victor Garza. Police are investigating the possibility of foul play…_

Sam skimmed through the rest of the article, then looked up Victor Garza in the police database. He found several counts of drunk and disorderly conduct, three counts of battery, and one count of domestic violence, which had been thrown out. Well, if he’d killed her that’d explain the ghost.

“Hey, Dean?” Sam called.

“What?”

“Think I found something.”

They found the cemetery where Molly Salinger was buried, and salted and burned the bones, then went over the house with an EMF meter. It was clean.

“Good work, Sammy,” Dean said.

“Yeah, thanks.” Sam wondered who they knew who’d want to help them like this. They’d pissed off most of the people they came in contact with (or, well, Dean had), and they never left anything supernatural alive.

***

Every time he turned on his laptop Sam found more bookmarks, usually related to whatever they were hunting at the time. He was pissed that something was messing with his computer, but whatever it was was making itself useful, so he supposed he shouldn’t complain.

One day, on impulse, he set the homepage to anywho.com, hoping whoever it was would get the hint.

The next time he turned on his computer, the homepage was set to the download page for Yahoo Messenger. He downloaded it, but after a week no one had messaged him, so he reset the homepage back to anywho.

And whoever it was reset it to the homepage of the U.S. Supreme Court.

Sam stared. What the fuck?

He thought about it for several days, but couldn’t make any sense out of it.

The next time he reset the page it went to a page for treating spider bites, and after that a page on Southwest wildlife.

He started making a list, trying to come up with commonalities between the pages, but it seemed random. A bio of Louis Armstrong. Disney’s _Song of the South._

It wasn’t until whoever it was set the page to the Norse mythology section of Encyclopedia Mythica that it clicked. Spider, Coyote, Brer Rabbit and Loki, all Tricksters. And the rest… judge, messenger, trumpeter…

Gabriel.

Fuck.

How had he even _found_ them? Unless his being a Trickster for so long let him get around the sigils in their ribs? But he wasn’t pulling any of his usual tricks, was actually being _helpful,_ and Sam didn’t trust that for one minute.

Sam did a Google search and set the homepage to the entry for Gabriel on the Catholic Encyclopedia.

It stayed that way for awhile, and Sam started wondering if he was wrong, or if, now that he’d figured it out, Gabriel had lost interest.

But finally when he turned on his laptop the homepage was set to Sprint. He took out his phone and saw there was an unfamiliar number at the top of the speed-dial list.

Dean was out getting new shocks for the Impala, and even once he got back replacing them would take time.

Sam dialed the number.

It rang a few times before a lazy voice answered. “Hey, Sammy.”

“Gabriel.”

“The one and only. Knew you’d figure it out, smart boy like you.”

“How’d you even find us?” Sam demanded. “Cas made us invisible!”

“You are. He isn’t. And your car is fairly easy to spot. You should really ditch it, start driving a Civic or something.”

Sam snorted. He could just imagine Dean’s reaction to that suggestion. “Why are you helping us?”

“I can’t help out of the goodness of my heart?”

“No,” Sam snapped. “What do you want?”

“You wound me, Sammy, truly.” Sam could imagine him pressing an injured hand to his breast. “Honestly? I like you. Dean too, for all that he’s an asshole a lot of the time. You’re interesting, and I want you to go on being interesting.”

“But you wanted us to play our roles!” Sam protested. “So why help us at all?”

“I’m not going to help you against my brothers. But I don’t want you dying before you have to. What would I do for entertainment if you two were dead?”

Sam couldn’t help sighing at that. He’d thought for a moment that Gabriel might actually be willing to go up against his family for them. “So you won’t help us against Lucifer.”

“Maybe. I could be persuaded. With the right…incentive.”

Sam could _feel_ the leer coming through the phone. “What are you talking about?” he snapped.

“Oh, I think you know. What’s in it for me? What will you…do for me?” Again, Gabriel’s voice dripped innuendo.

“I’m not having sex with you!” Sam squawked.

“Fine. Then I won’t help.” And he hung up.

Sam stared at his phone for a long time before putting it away.

***

Sam figured Gabriel would lose interest after that, but even though he didn’t hear from him directly, the bookmarks kept appearing in his web browser, and when their first aid kit got low it mysteriously restocked. When Dean asked about it Sam told him he’d bought more supplies; he didn’t want Dean knowing about Gabriel. His brother would refuse the help, and they couldn’t afford that.

But there was more major shit going down, beyond their ordinary hunts. Earthquakes, tsunamis, record blizzards. Demons and ghosts coming out of the woodwork. The Apocalypse was still going on, and they needed help.

So he finally went outside one day, took out his phone and called Gabriel.

“Yeah?” the archangel’s voice came through the phone.

“I need to talk to you. In person.”

“I thought you didn’t trust me,” Gabriel protested.

“I don’t. But we need to talk.”

“You’re in Naperville, right?”

“Yeah,” Sam agreed slowly, even though he figured Gabriel already knew.

“Meet me in Knoch Park in half an hour.”

So Sam told Dean he was going to get food and headed off to the park.

***

He installed himself on one of two benches near the edge of the park. Private enough to talk but public enough that Gabriel wouldn’t be able to do anything to him (yeah, like he actually believed that).

Sam didn’t even have time to kick himself for coming here alone, without telling Dean where he was going. Almost as soon as he’d sat down, Gabriel was sitting on the other bench.

“So what was so urgent that you just _had_ to talk to me?” Gabriel inquired, examining his fingernails.

“You’re still helping us.”

Gabriel shrugged. “Like I said, you’re entertaining. I don’t want you getting killed. And Castiel’s got enough to worry about with his powers disappearing without nursemaiding you two as well.”

“Why do you care?”

Gabriel actually looked faintly hurt. “He’s my brother.”

“Michael and Lucifer are your brothers too, and you’re not helping either of them,” Sam pointed out.

Gabriel winced, but said, “They don’t need my help. He probably didn’t tell you, but Castiel’s still young. He doesn’t really know what he’s doing, especially now that he’s developed a mind of his own.”

“Join the club,” Sam said wryly. “So you won’t help us against Lucifer?”

“Why, are you reconsidering my offer?” Gabriel smirked.

“No!” Sam said, flinching away from him.

Gabriel pouted. “Why not?”

“Why not? Why _not?!_ ” Sam repeated incredulously. “First off, it’s coercion,” he said, ticking the points off on his fingers. “Second, if Dean found out he’d kill me. And you too, probably. And third, I’m not gay!”

Gabriel snorted. “You really think gender is a problem for me?”

And suddenly Jess was sitting on the bench.

Sam froze. Lucifer had been bad enough… “Change. Back. Now. Or I’m leaving,” he hissed through clenched teeth.

Gabriel sighed theatrically. “Fine. Aren’t you touchy?” But instead of changing back to his usual smirking form he shifted into an unfamiliar girl, with long medium brown hair and hazel eyes. “Better?”

“Who is she?”

Gabriel shrugged. “Some girl you saw in passing once.”

“Don’t do that! It’s creepy.”

Gabriel pouted again. “You don’t want your old girlfriend, you don’t want some random girl, what do you want?”

“I don’t want anything, I told you!” Sam snapped. “Besides, it doesn’t matter. I’d always know it was you.”

“So you’d prefer me like this?” Gabriel asked, shifting back to the shape Sam was familiar with.

“Yes! No! I told you, I’m not doing it!”

Gabriel sighed theatrically and spread his arms along the back of the bench. “Say I help you and your brother on your little crusade, no strings attached. Would you consider it?”

“You’ll help us against Lucifer?” Sam asked skeptically.

“Hypothetically.”

“You say ‘no strings attached’ but you want me to have sex with you,” Sam protested.

“No. I’d help you anyway, even if you said no. So would you consider it, if I helped you?”

Sam’s first impulse was to say, “No, not a chance in hell,” but instead he found himself saying, “I…don’t know.”

“What’s say we try it, hmm?” And Gabriel leaned toward him.

Sam leaned backward so fast he almost fell off the bench.

“Would you relax, it’s just a kiss!”

Part of his brain was screaming that this was crazy, but when Gabriel leaned in again he didn’t flinch back.

Gabriel didn’t do much for a moment, just pressed his lips against Sam’s. Sam sat rigid under the pressure until finally deciding _Fuck it_ and kissing back. When he did, Gabriel’s tongue traced along the seam of his lips and Sam opened his mouth instinctively.

Gabriel didn’t invade, didn’t _take,_ as Sam had half expected he would. He darted his tongue into Sam’s mouth and away again, over and over until Sam moaned slightly and chased it down.

Gabriel’s breath hitched at that, and he started kissing him in earnest. When he finally pulled away, his pupils were wide. “Oh yeah,” he managed, “I’d say that’s definitely a good start.”

Sam could only nod.


	2. The Next Step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel offers his help, Dean is skeptical, and Gabriel and Sam move forward.

Sam hasn’t told Dean about Gabriel, and he doesn’t intend to, not until he can’t avoid it. He still doesn’t believe Gabriel’s serious about helping, but whenever he thinks that he hears a snide voice in his head. “Gift horse, Sammy.”

He hopes it’s his imagination.

So when there’s a knock at the motel door and Dean answers it to find Gabriel standing on the doorstep Sam barely represses a groan.

“You!” Dean snarls. “What the fuck are you doing here?!”

“I came to help.”

Dean snorts. “Help, yeah, sure. Lucifer or Michael?”

“Neither!”

Dean glares at him. “The only person you ever help is yourself! We’re not buying what you’re selling, so beat it!”

“But he has been helping us, Dean!” Sam blurts out.

Dean turns to him, skepticism written in every line of his stance. “What?”

“He gave me the clue to solve the vengeful spirit case in Colorado, he replaced my knife and restocked the first aid kit, and he’s been helping me with research!”

Dean turns back to Gabriel. “That true?”

“Cross my heart and hope to fly.” Gabriel says, doing just that.

“ _Why?_ ” Dean demands.

“Do I have to have a reason? Maybe I just like this planet and don’t want it to burn. Besides,” Gabriel continues, catching Cas’ eye, “None of the rest of the family is looking out for my baby brother.”

Dean twitches, like he’s about to get between Gabriel and Cas. “Yeah, you’ve done a real good job looking out for him. So good he ended up bleeding!”

“Dean…” Sam protests.

“No, Sammy. Have you forgotten he made you watch me die over and over? This is a complete about face, and I don’t trust him!”

“But–”

“Dean.”

Both of them turn to Cas, who’s finally decided to say something. “If Gabriel is truly serious about helping us we cannot afford to reject his assistance.”

He turns to Gabriel. “Are you really going to help us against Michael and Lucifer?”

Gabriel nods tightly. “Yeah.”

“And you won’t harm Sam or Dean?”

Gabriel snorts. “No, Cas, I won’t harm your precious Winchesters.” But his eyes are mainly on Dean as he says it.

“And you won’t coerce or trick them into saying yes?”

“I’d say that falls under the heading of ‘harm,’ wouldn’t you?”

At Cas’ stony silence, he sighs. “No, I won’t do anything to make them say yes.”

Cas nods and turns to Dean. “I believe he is sincere in his wish to help us.”

“ _Thank_ you,” Gabriel mutters sarcastically, but everyone ignores him.

Sam can hear Dean grinding his teeth. “Fine!” he explodes finally. “But one false move and I’m breaking out the holy oil.”

Gabriel holds up his hands and shakes exaggeratedly, then moves towards Castiel.

This time Dean does get between them. “What are you doing?”

Gabriel gives him an _Are you serious?_ look. “Relax, Winchester! Cas is running on empty. I’m just going to fill up the tank.” He reaches out a hand to touch Cas’ forehead and there’s a flash.

“Cas?” Dean asks.

“I’m fine, Dean. Gabriel has temporarily recharged my grace.” He turns to Gabriel. “Thank you.”

Gabriel shrugs. “No problem, bro.” He looks at them and rubs his hands. “So…what’s the plan?”

***

They don’t really have a “plan” as such. Up until a couple years ago they never needed one. The main thing they're worried about is stopping Pestilence, or Conquest or whoever it is.

They’d already departed from Revelations: Death was supposed to be the last Horseman to appear, not the second. War was supposed to be the second, not the first. The only one in the right place so far, according to Revelations, was Famine.

They have Bobby doing research on how Pestilence (or Conquest, and really, how are they supposed to prepare if they don’t know what’s coming?) will show up. Sam thinks he and Dean have memorized every translation of Revelations out there, but they’re no closer to an answer. Dean even asks Chuck, but he’s no help, muttering something about zombies.

In the meantime Sam’s been careful around Gabriel, and tries to avoid spending time alone with him. Gabriel isn’t pressing the issue, for which he’s grateful.

But one day, nearly a month after he showed up, Gabriel corners Sam coming out of a Denny’s.

“So,” he says. “Have you changed your mind?”

“About what?” Sam asks, attempting to stall.

Gabriel rolls his eyes, and looks at the sky as if for patience. “About what we talked about in the park.”

“Oh. Yeah. That.” He can’t say he’s _changed_ his mind exactly, because he never really made a decision in the first place. He’d kissed Gabriel, and it was good, OK, it was great, but it was just one kiss. And now that Gabriel’s hanging around all the time and Dean’s close by Sam doesn’t really want to find out if he’s willing to do more.

“Yeah, _that,_ ” Gabriel confirms, his lips twitching. “Well?”

“I…I dunno.”

“You enjoyed the kiss, didn’t you?”

“Well, yeah, but Dean…”

Gabriel snorts. “Don’t worry about him. He’s too busy making sheep’s eyes at my brother to notice what we do.”

“Wait, what?”

“Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed! They should just rip each other’s clothes off and get it over with.”

“Gabriel!” Sam squawks. “That’s my _brother_ you’re talking about!”

“So? Cas is _my_ brother. And I’m starting to wonder what’ll get them together if the Apocalypse isn’t enough.”

Sam shrugs. “Dean’s Dean. He–”

“Yeah, I know. ‘Guilt, guilt, inferiority, daddy issues, angst, guilt, guilt…’”

It’s not funny, but Sam finds himself snickering anyway.

“Whereas Cas hasn’t even figured out what he’s doing yet, other than following Dean.” Sam sighs. “We should just lock them in a closet until they admit it.”

Gabriel gets a speculative gleam in his eye. “Whoa, whoa, I was joking!” He should know better than to give Gabriel ideas.

“Still, it’s a good idea.”

Sam throws up his hands. “You’re hopeless!”

“And you’re changing the subject.”

“I told you, I dunno.”

“I’m not gonna force you into anything, Sam, you know that right?”

Sam snorts. “Your track record with that isn’t so good.’

Gabriel makes a face. “Yeah, I know. But, really, if you’re not comfortable with something I won’t do it.”

“Mm.”

“So you wanna try something else?”

Sam pauses. It’s tempting, extremely tempting, but it’s the middle of the afternoon, and Dean’s expecting him back with the food. “Dean…”

Gabriel rolls his eyes. “Forget Dean! I’m an archangel, remember? I can have you back in a few minutes no matter how long we’re gone.”

“Back from where?” Sam wants to know.

Gabriel shrugs. “Wherever.”

Sam swallows. “OK.”

Gabriel snaps his fingers, there’s a rushing sound and a sense of disorientation, and suddenly they’re somewhere else.

***

Sam looks around curiously. He’s in a room with one whole wall made up of windows. Sunlight slants in, tinted green-gold by the thick trees outside. There’s a comfortable-looking couch against the opposite wall, a bookcase, and shelves with knickknacks on the three walls not made of glass. A door opens on a hallway in one wall.

“Where are we?”

Gabriel shrugs. “Does it matter?”

“I’d like to know.”

“Just somewhere I made. Do you like it?”

Sam nods.

“So, shall we?” Gabriel gestures to the half-open door, and Sam gulps, but nods again.

There are several doors off the hallway. Gabriel opens one to reveal the most opulent bedroom Sam’s ever seen. Honey-colored wood paneling on the walls. Royal blue carpet with a pile at least an inch thick. Heavy wine flannel curtains on the windows. A California king bed conspicuously in the middle of the room piled with feather pillows and covered with a Navajo blanket.

His nerves jump to the next level of _ohshit_ when he sees the bed. But Gabriel doesn’t lead him over there, doesn’t even come near him. Instead he sits down on the bed himself.

“You can sit here or over there,” he says, pointing to an overstuffed armchair the same color as the curtains, “whichever.”

Sam considers a moment, then sits at the head of the bed, on the opposite side from Gabriel, so there’s some distance between them.

“Like I said, Sam, this is your show. You’re calling the shots.”

Instead of answering, Sam says, “You created this place just now? It seems kind of detailed.”

“I have a good imagination,” Gabriel replies. “But no, I created it awhile ago.”

“Is there a kitchen?”

“Why, you hungry?”

“No, but I’m a little thirsty.”

“What do you want? Water? Coffee? Beer?”

“Water.” He’s not going near alcohol with Gabriel in the same room, no matter how he’s been acting lately.

Gabriel snaps his fingers and hands him a bottle of…fuck, _mineral water._

“Can’t you ever make _anything_ simple?” he demands, torn between amusement and annoyance.

Gabriel huffs. “Fine.” He snaps again and Sam’s holding a bottle of Arrowhead. “Got no appreciation for the finer things in life.”

“No, it’s just when I’m thirsty I don’t want to drink something bitter and carbonated.”

Gabriel shakes his head. “Someone needs to give you an appreciation of culture.”

“I took two fine arts classes and a lit class in school.”

Gabriel waves a hand as if dismissing the thought. “Classes. You haven’t _experienced_ any of it. I was around when Michelangelo was painting the Sistine Chapel. I saw Beethoven conduct his third piano concerto.”

“You never struck me as the type to appreciate art and music,” Sam says.

“Who do you think started Bohemianism?” Gabriel demands. “For that matter, who do you think gave Milton his ideas?”

Sam gapes. “You’re kidding!”

Gabriel just smiles a secretive smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“Yeah, I would. That’s why I asked.”

Gabriel laughs, and Sam realizes that it’s the first time he’s heard him laugh honestly and not mockingly. “I like you, kiddo!”

“Yeah, you’ve mentioned that,” Sam grins back.

Gabriel sobers abruptly. “Seriously, Sam, do you want to do anything now, or should I take you back?”

“Um…” He thinks about it for a long moment before finally saying, “Yeah.”

“Yeah you want to do something? Or yeah I should take you back?”

“Yeah I want to do something.”

Gabriel gets up from where he’s sitting and moves to sit by Sam, not touching, but close enough that he can feel the warmth radiating from his body. “Your move, kiddo.”

Sam almost wishes Gabriel would take control so he wouldn’t have to think about this. He shifts around on the bed, takes hold of Gabriel’s chin and turns it toward him, then kisses him.

The angle is awkward, and Gabriel pulls back, turns so he’s facing Sam and kisses him again, one hand moving to rest at the base of Sam’s neck while his thumb rubs circles underneath his ear.

Sam can’t help moaning at that and forcing his tongue into Gabriel’s mouth. Gabriel opens up for him and lets Sam explore his mouth. He tastes like Gummi Bears, and Sam supposes he shouldn’t be surprised, but there’s something underneath it, a metallic taste like the air before a thunderstorm.

Sam only pulls away when he needs to breathe. Gabriel looks at him. “OK so far?”

Sam laughs shakily, because it’s such a surreal question. “Yeah, fine.”

“You up for the next step?”

Sam nods.

Gabriel’s hands move to his overshirt and push it off. Sam tenses, but Gabriel only runs his fingers down his chest, dipping underneath the hem for a moment. “Relax.”

Sam reaches out hesitantly and pushes off Gabriel’s overshirt. He’s wearing a T-shirt underneath it, rather than a button-down like he did before, but Sam pulls back, reluctant to do anything else.

“Relax,” Gabriel breathes in his ear, and Sam jumps as his tongue snakes out and licks into it.

Gabriel pulls back and gets up from the bed. “OK, I’m taking you back.”

“What? No!” Sam’s having trouble stringing words together; his brain has apparently decided to take a vacation.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s obvious you don’t want to be here…”

After that there’s only one thing he can do.

Gabriel lets out a surprised “ _oof!_ ” as Sam pulls him down on the bed and he licks his lips as Sam crawls on top of him.

“You’re not being fair.”

Gabriel raises an eyebrow. “I think I’ve been more than fair.”

Sam huffs out a breath. “You’re assuming that because I’m not ripping your clothes off I don’t want you.”

“And do you?” There’s a half-smirk on Gabriel’s face, like he thinks Sam’s bluffing.

For answer Sam presses against him, letting him feel his half-hard cock. The smirk melts away and Gabriel’s eyes flutter closed.

Sam moves his hands underneath Gabriel’s shirt, and he lifts up, not incidentally pressing them closer together.

When his shirt’s off, Sam takes a moment to look at him. He’s not muscular, but not flabby either. Sam ghosts his hands down Gabriel’s chest, and he shivers, so Sam does it again.

He’d never expected to do this, never thought about doing this, but now that Gabriel’s underneath him, turned on but letting Sam do what he wants, he’s having trouble processing.

He kisses Gabriel again, and the archangel surges underneath him, his hand going to the back of Sam’s head and massaging his scalp. Sam hums out a pleased noise.

Gabriel’s really being unbelievably patient with him, and he decides to reward him. He breaks away from Gabriel’s mouth to lick along his jaw and down his neck. When he gets to the juncture of Gabriel’s neck and shoulder he latches on, sucking, and Gabriel closes his eyes and moans.

Sam moves down further, nipping at Gabriel’s collarbone and lapping at the hollow of his throat.

When he runs the flat of his tongue over Gabriel’s nipple he arches off the bed and gasps, “ _Sam!_ ”

Sam moves down to lick at Gabriel’s navel, and now he’s level with the bulge in his jeans, in the perfect position to…but he can’t bring himself to do that, not yet.

So he slithers back up Gabriel’s body and kisses him while he opens his jeans and pushes them down over his hips.

When his hand closes around Gabriel’s cock he gasps and breaks the kiss, so Sam moves to suck at his neck as he strokes him, firm and slow.

Gabriel’s hips move up into it, jerking frantically and Sam speeds up, twisting his wrist and running his thumb over the head.

He’s still sucking at Gabriel’s neck and when he bites into the skin behind his ear Gabriel comes, practically sobbing Sam’s name.

Gabriel lies there for a moment, breathing heavily, with Sam atop him, before he snaps his fingers and suddenly he’s completely naked, and the rest of Sam’s clothes and the mess are both gone.

Sam has a feeling that Gabriel could be hard again if he wanted to be, but he just flips them over and takes Sam in his mouth with no warning whatsoever.

Sam gives a hoarse shout and buries his fingers in Gabriel’s hair as his hips snap up, then he remembers himself and fights to keep still as Gabriel’s tongue runs all over him.

The warmth engulfing his mouth is suddenly gone, and he whimpers, but Gabriel says, “I don’t need to breathe, I have no gag reflex and you can’t hurt me, so quit holding back,” and dives down again.

Sam doesn’t think he could hold back if he wanted to, since Gabriel seems to be doing his best to turn him inside out. He fists his hands in Gabriel’s hair and _yanks_ and the archangel just hums around him.

Sam is basically fucking his mouth now, and Gabriel’s letting him, letting him take what he needs, and there’s no way he could last long with provocation like that.

He comes down Gabriel’s throat, his hips driving into his mouth once, twice. He grays out as Gabriel swallows.

***

When he comes to Gabriel’s stroking his hair. It’s weird, but nice.

“Sorry about that. Didn’t mean for you to pass out.”

Sam smiles lazily. “It’s fine.”

“So you wanna go back now, or wait awhile.”

“Wait awhile, please,” Sam says, yawning. “You wore me out.”

Gabriel smiles at him. “But did you enjoy it?”

“Oh, yeah.” That was the best sex he’d had in a long time, including the high he got from sucking demon blood with Ruby.

“Good.” And Gabriel pulled back the covers, and fuck, these sheets must be 200 thread count. Sam burrows under the blankets and moves close to Gabriel.

“Are you fucking _spooning_ me?” Gabriel asks in incredulous amusement.

“Mmm,” Sam replies, not managing anything else before he drifts off.

***

When they get back to the motel, Dean and Castiel are staring at each other. Gabriel catches Sam’s eye and mouths _closet._ Sam bursts out laughing.

“What?” Dean snaps, separating his gaze from Castiel’s with an audible tearing noise as Gabriel starts laughing too.

“Nothing, nothing,” Sam chokes. “You hungry? I brought food.”


	3. Equilibrium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds out.

Sam’s lying on the motel bed, Gabriel behind him stroking his hair. Dean and Castiel are out, and shouldn’t be back for awhile. He’s more than half-asleep, so he doesn’t hear the key in the lock or the door opening until it’s too late and Dean’s standing there gaping like a stranded fish.

He springs up from the bed as Dean manages a “What the _fuck!_ ”

“Dean! It’s not what it looks like!”

“Oh, I think it is,” Gabriel drawls from the bed, where he’s crossed his hands behind his head and Sam glares at him, because _so_ not the time.

“Are you two…” Dean moves his hands around in front of him, apparently unable to say it.

“Fucking? Yeah. Although,” Gabriel pauses, considering, “Technically we haven’t fucked yet.”

Dean launches himself at Gabriel, but Castiel grabs his arm. “Dean.”

“Let go of me!” Dean snarls, attempting to fight him off.

“No. Not while you are acting irrational.”

“The Trickster’s fucking my brother, I’m being _completely_ rational!”

Castiel gives them a look thanking them _so_ much for making his life more complicated than it already is and drags Dean outside bodily.

Castiel murmurs something Sam doesn’t catch, and Dean yells, “I don’t _care_ if he’s helping us, he laid a hand on Sam!”

Cas’ reply is too soft to hear, but Dean’s “He fucked a demon, he doesn’t make good decisions when it comes to relationships!” comes through loud and clear.

Sam winces, and Gabriel breathes out a low whistle. “Ouch. He did not just say that.”

And now they hear Cas, soft and deadly. “Kindly do not compare my brother to a demon, Dean.”

Sam winces again as Dean makes a feeble protest.

There’s silence from outside, and Sam rounds furiously on Gabriel. “I could have calmed him down, why’d you have to do that?!”

“Why are you so insistent on keeping this a secret, Sam?” Gabriel wants to know. “You’re not _ashamed_ of me, are you?”

The tone is light, but Sam hears the rawness underneath it. “Gabriel, God no, it’s just…Dean’s all I have, I mean he has been for a long time, and I’ve already screwed things up with him so much. I can’t lose him.”

Gabriel huffs out a sigh, making his bangs flutter. “Alright, I’ll play nice with your brother.”

***

For the next week or so Dean ignores Gabriel entirely, in that loud “ _I’m making absolutely sure you know I’m pissed at you_ ” sort of way. He only talks to Sam when it’s absolutely necessary, and he never leaves him alone with Gabriel.

It’s both hysterical and frustrating, since it’s not like Gabriel couldn't do what he wanted with Sam whether Dean was watching or not. He could snap his fingers and zap them somewhere else and there wouldn’t be a thing Dean could do about it. But he’s been staying away from Sam, not touching him at all, and Sam’s not sure who he’s more pissed at, Gabriel or Dean.

Dean and Castiel seem to have patched things up, although Castiel is at least cautiously in favor of their relationship, a fact which Dean ignores.

But when Sam hears Gabriel and Castiel talking near the soda machine he pricks up his ears, since it’s fairly likely they’re talking about him.

“…the only way he’ll notice,” Gabriel finishes.

Castiel’s brow furrows. “Is that wise?”

“Is what wise?” Sam asks, coming over, holding up a dollar as explanation.

Gabriel ignores him. “Trust me. It’ll work. Just go for it.”

Castiel looks thoughtful, then nods. “I will.”

Sam blinks as they’re suddenly alone. “What was that all about?”

Gabriel shrugs. “Just nudging things along. I told Cas he needs to get that stick out of his ass. Or maybe put it in Dean’s.”

“Gabriel!” Sam yelps, covering his ears. “What’d I say about talking about my brother like that?!”

Gabriel snorts. “Anyway, I told him to just go for it.”

“Do you think he will?”

Gabriel shrugs. “Who knows? Anyway, it seems like your fraternal watchdog is elsewhere for the moment. Wanna make the most of it?”

Sam grins. “Sure.”

***

He’s back in the room awhile later when Dean walks up to him. “So, yeah, um, I’m gonna get a separate room for the night. It’s kinda crowded with four of us in here.”

Sam barely manages not to laugh or roll his eyes, because Dean may think he’s being subtle, but he’s really not, especially with Castiel hovering in the background. Why Dean thinks he’d care is beyond him. If Dean wants to have sex with an angel he’s not going to try and stop him, even if he isn’t returning the favor. “Sure, whatever.”

***

If he didn’t know what was going on before, being woken up at three in the morning by grunts and moans coming from next door would have done it. It sounds like Cas is on top.

Sam puts the pillow over his head and groans.


	4. Beatitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas makes a decision.

When Dean opens the door to the motel room, the Trickster’s the last person he expects to see.

“You!” he snarls, groping for a weapon, not that it will do any good. “What the fuck are you doing here?!”

The Trickster–Gabriel–shrugs. “I came to help.”

That’s got to be the lamest excuse Dean’s ever heard. “Help, yeah, sure. Lucifer or Michael?” Given that the last time they’d met Gabriel was trying to get them to act as outerwear.

“Neither!”

Dean casts around for a way to get rid of him before he drops them in some constructed reality. He can’t think of any, so he falls back on his old standby: obnoxiousness. Maybe not the wisest course of action, but at this point he doesn’t care. “The only person you ever help is yourself! We’re not buying what you’re selling, so beat it!”

“But he has been helping us, Dean!”

He whirls at that, Sam’s unexpected support feeling like a betrayal. “What?”

“He gave me the clue to solve the vengeful spirit case in Colorado, he replaced my knife and restocked the first aid kit, and he’s been helping me with research!”

Dean frowns. He remembers Sam showing him the knife, and their discussion of a possible shadow, but nothing had happened since they’d beefed up the wards. “That true?”

“Cross my heart and hope to fly,” Gabriel smirks.

“ _Why?_ ” There’s no reason for Gabriel to be helping them. Unless he thinks it’d be entertaining, and help that’s liable to get bored and quit at any time is worse than no help at all.

“Do I have to have a reason? Maybe I just like this planet and don’t want it to burn. Besides, none of the rest of the family is looking out for my baby brother.”

Dean darts a look at Cas. “Yeah, you’ve done a real good job looking out for him. So good he ended up bleeding!” Cas never told him where Gabriel sent him, and he hates to imagine what could hurt him enough that he couldn’t heal himself, even weakened.

“Dean…”

“No, Sammy!” They’re starting to rebuild the trust between them again, but that doesn’t mean he has to listen to Sam defend scum. “Have you forgotten he made you watch me die over and over? This is a complete about face, and I don’t trust him!”

“But–”

“Dean,” Cas breaks in, “If Gabriel is truly serious about helping us we cannot afford to reject his assistance.”

Just because it’s true doesn’t mean he has to admit it.

“Are you really going to help us against Michael and Lucifer?” Cas continues.

“Yeah.”

“And you won’t harm Sam or Dean?”

Gabriel rolls his eyes. “No, Cas, I won’t harm your precious Winchesters.”

Dean scoffs.

“And you won’t coerce or trick them into saying yes?” Cas demands.

“I’d say that falls under the heading of ‘harm,’ wouldn’t you?” When Cas doesn’t reply Gabriel gives an exaggerated sigh and says, “No, I won’t do anything to make them say yes.”

Cas nods and turns to Dean. “I believe he is sincere in his wish to help us.”

“ _Thank_ you,” Gabriel mutters sarcastically.

Dean ignores him, too busy fuming. They can use the help, he knows it. That’s the only reason he agreed to let Sam talk to the Trickster in the first place, but that got them stuck in TV Land.

“Fine! But one false move and I’m breaking out the holy oil.”

When Gabriel moves toward Cas, though, Dean gets between them. “What are you doing?”

“Relax, Winchester! Cas is running on empty. I’m just going to fill up the tank.” And before Dean can do anything he touches Cas’ forehead and there’s a flash.

“Cas?” Dean asks, worried about Gabriel whammying him.

“I’m fine, Dean. Gabriel has temporarily recharged my grace. Thank you.”

Well, that’ll be useful, especially if he can keep doing it, but Dean refuses to thank him for it.

Gabriel shrugs. “No problem, bro. So…what’s the plan?”

***

“Well, Chuck’s no help.”

“Hmm?” Sam says, looking up from a table strewn with Bibles.

“I think the drink’s got to him. He was raving about zombies.”

“Seriously?”

Dean spreads his hands and shakes his head, a mute _don’t ask me._

***

Sam went out awhile ago to get food, and Dean’s about ready to throw something. He’s not religious, and reading Bibles all day is not his idea of fun.

He leans back in the chair and groans.

“Dean? Are you alright?” Well, look at that. There’s an angel hovering behind his chair.

“Yeah, fine, Cas,” Dean says, rubbing his eyes. “Just tired.”

“You push yourself too hard.”

“Yeah, well, I hate to tell you this, Cas, but it’s the Apocalypse. There’s not exactly time to kick back on the beach.”

“Still, you’ve been working long enough. If you’re fatigued you might miss things. Get some rest.”

He gets up from the table, wincing as his back protests. He might have been reconstructed once he got out of Hell, but he’s been through plenty since then to make his bones ache. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Sam should be back with the food soon anyway.”

“You can’t keep driving yourself into the ground like this. You’ve said there’s no one else, so if you don’t take care of yourself, then what?” Cas pauses. “And I worry about you.”

Dean locks eyes with him. He’d never considered the fact that Cas might worry about him. He knows Sam does, but he worries about Sam too, so that’s OK. And he worries about Cas, moreso now that he’s losing his mojo. But the thought that Cas cares enough to worry about him makes him feel good in a way he doesn’t want to examine too closely.

They’re interrupted by Sam coming back, and, for some reason, cracking up.

“What?” Dean snaps, glaring at his brother and seeing that Gabriel has not only tailed him back to the motel, but is laughing too. He just knows they’re laughing at him, but he can’t figure out why.

“Nothing, nothing,” Sam manages, sobering up. “You hungry? I brought food.”

Dean decides to ignore it this time.

***

But when he comes back one day to see Sam and Gabriel sprawled on the bed, he can’t ignore it.

He spends several seconds processing what he’s seeing. It looks like Gabriel’s _stroking Sam’s hair._

“What the _fuck!_ ”

Sam jumps up, waving his hands frantically. “Dean! It’s not what it looks like!”

“Oh, I think it is,” Gabriel puts in before he can answer.

“Are you two…” He’d never believe it if he hadn’t seen it, and even now he’s trying to think of some other explanation.

“Fucking? Yeah. Although,” Gabriel pauses, “Technically we haven’t fucked yet.”

An actual red film descends over his vision and he launches himself at Gabriel. Or tries to. Cas stops him. “Dean.”

“Let go of me!” There was no way Dean could break free even with Cas weakened, and now that his mojo is back to full strength there’s no chance, but he tries anyway.

“No. Not while you are acting irrational.”

“The Trickster’s fucking my brother, I’m being _completely_ rational!” Cas hadn’t been around the first two times they’d run into Gabriel, he didn’t know what he’d put them through.

But Cas drags him outside and shuts the door.

“Dean. We are in a precarious situation, and Gabriel’s help is necessary.”

“I don’t _care_ if he’s helping us, he laid a hand on Sam!” Winchester Rule Number One: You lay a hand on Sam, you die. No fucking exceptions.

“Sam is an adult. He can make his own decisions.”

“He fucked a demon, he doesn’t make good decisions when it comes to relationships!” Dean snaps, realizing his mistake a second too late.

Cas’ face freezes, and then solidifies into the same expression he wore when he confronted Zachariah in the storage room. “Kindly do not compare my brother to a demon, Dean.”

“Cas, I didn’t mean–”

But it’s too late. He’s gone.

Dean puts his hands over his face and growls. He doesn’t want to go back inside, not with Gabriel there, so he heads to the parking lot. Maybe a drive will make things make sense.

***

He ignores Gabriel, and Sam too, unless he actually has to talk to him. Cas clearly thinks he’s being immature and unreasonable, but he doesn’t care. Except for how he kind of does.

He doesn’t know when Cas’ good opinion came to mean so much to him; maybe when Sam was gone. But he can’t believe that Gabriel is a good thing for his brother, no matter if he is helping them, and no matter what Cas says.

He never leaves the two of them alone together, and Sam’s bitchfaces get more and more epic, but he ignores them.

But finally Cas being so distant with him forces him to…not reconsider, and not apologize, but talk to him.

“Cas.”

“Yes, Dean?”

And he’s acting the same as usual, politely interested in what Dean has to say, and not disapproving at all, but Dean can sense it anyway.

“About Gabriel…”

“Gabriel is my brother, Dean, and no matter what he has done I will not hear ill of him, no more than you would of Sam.”

And, OK, fair point. Of course Cas would feel compelled to defend his brother. “Do you think he’s serious?” When Cas cocks his head he elaborates. “About helping us?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“And Sam…” his mouth twists at the thought.

“Despite his behavior in the past I don’t think Gabriel would do anything to hurt him. He seems to truly care for him, perhaps more than he’s cared for anyone in a long time.”

Well that was a big fat TMI. Dean grimaces. “Good to know. But you know if he does hurt Sam, archangel or not, your brother or not, I will make him pay!”

“If he hurts Sam,” Castiel replies evenly, “I will help you.”

***

It’s about a week or so after that that Dean’s getting a soda and Cas is suddenly _there,_ right in his space, and that’s nothing unusual, except he’s crowding him against the wall, not threateningly but insistently.

When Cas kisses him Dean kisses him back by reflex, before his brain catches up to the fact that _hello,_ this is _Cas,_ and he shoves him away.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Because there’s no way Cas would be doing that unless he was…well, angels can’t be possessed, at least he doesn’t think so, but influenced somehow.

Cas backs off, but only about six inches. “Nothing is wrong with me, Dean. I’ve simply made a decision.”

 _A decision? What the fuck?_ “What are you talking about?”

“If you don’t wish to, I will desist.”

 _Wish to what? What?_ “I…it’s…why now?” That isn’t what he’d meant to ask, but it’s a fair question.

Cas smiles slightly. “It’s the Apocalypse, Dean. We may die tomorrow. Can you think of a better time?”

“But _why?_ ” That’s the thing he’s stuck on. Because there’s no reason for Cas to do this.

Cas tilts his head, confused. “Because I love you.”

He’s so matter-of-fact about it, like he’s saying that the sky is blue, or Zachariah’s a dick (or, OK, not, because Cas would never admit that, no matter how true it is), that Dean reels.

He can’t deal with Cas loving him. Cas has already done so much for him, given up so much for him, that he can’t expect this from him, too.

And Dean doesn’t love him. Sure, he owes the guy his life, and would trust him with his life or Sam’s life without a moment’s thought, would sacrifice himself if it meant Cas got to go on living and fighting, trusts him with all the secrets he never told him but that Cas knows anyway, but he doesn’t love him.

He stops. Because if that’s not love, then what is?

OK, so maybe he does love him, but the way he loves Sam. But that’s not right either, because if Sam kissed him he’d shove him off, beat him to a pulp, wash his mouth out with everything he could find and get falling-down drunk for good measure. He wouldn’t kiss him back, however briefly.

Cas smiles again. “You see?”

“Are you in my head?” Dean snaps. “Jesus, Cas, personal space is one thing…”

“I’m sorry. I thought you would find it easier than telling me.”

And, OK, that’s sort of true, but... “Don’t do it again! And Cas, I still can’t…”

Cas tilts his head again. “Why?”

“Because, because you’re an angel, and you’re already falling because of me.”

“This is my decision to make, Dean. You can reject my advances and I will not speak of it again, but you cannot stop me from loving you.”

“Stop saying that!”

And now Cas looks hurt. Great. “I mean what did I ever do to deserve your love?”

“What have you not done?” Cas counters immediately. “You think of your family, your friends, the entire world before yourself. You are completely and totally in the moment, whether you’re fighting, eating or fucking.”

Dean’s breath catches at Cas using that word, but he isn’t done.

“Through you I’ve learned what is best about humanity, why you fight so hard to save them despite your own pain. Why wouldn’t I love you?”

Dean slumps against the wall. “Cas…”

He can’t deal with this. He can’t. The only person who loves him is Sam, and that’s good, because Sam is a big enough weakness, more than big enough. But Cas had been weaseling his way into Dean’s life and his heart almost without him realizing it, to the point where if he wasn’t around for more than a week or so Dean started to worry.

He knows Cas can take care of himself. But so can Sam, and that doesn’t stop him from worrying about him.

Cas had been giving him space, but now he moves in again, so Dean can feel his breath on his face, and who knew angels needed to breathe?

It would be so easy to close that gap and kiss him again, but he can’t bring himself to do it. But he doesn’t have to because Cas does it for him.

And Cas knows how to kiss. Dean wonders for a moment where he learned, or whether he’s picking it up from _him._ He’s not sure what he thinks of that possibility, but he doesn’t spend too much time worrying about it because, like he said, Cas is _kissing_ him.

It’s been forever since he got laid. Between Sam and the demon blood, and the Apocalypse and angels after his skin he hasn’t really had the chance _or_ the inclination. But now…

Now his hands move to Cas’ hips before he remembers _public place._

He pulls away reluctantly, and Cas looks at him curiously.

“Not here.”

He spends a few moments composing himself, so he doesn’t look quite so much like he was making out with an angel, then goes back to the room.

He hasn’t been able to think of an excuse to get another room, and he’s hoping something will come to him as he talks; it’s worked before. “So, yeah, um, I’m gonna get a separate room for the night. It’s kinda crowded with four of us in here.”

He cringes. That’s the lamest story he’s ever come up with, and Sam will never buy it. But Sam’s hardly looking at him, focusing more on the book in his hand. “Sure, whatever.” He doesn’t even protest that this will leave him alone with Gabriel.

Dean breathes an inaudible sigh of relief and heads for the motel office.

***

“We need another room for the night,” he tells the woman behind the desk.

She peers at them. “Double or two singles?”

“Two singles.” He’s not going to announce what he’s doing to the entire world.

She raises an eyebrow skeptically, but hands over the key and he pays her, trying to remember what alias he used before.

***

He grabs his stuff from the room, not looking at Sam, and dumps it next door, then stands there, not sure what to do.

“We can’t do anything yet,” he tells Cas. “Sam would know.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Well…yeah, I mean…we don’t have any secrets, and there have been too many times he’s found out something I’d rather he not know.”

Cas frowns but doesn’t say anything.

“I’ll tell him, I will, just…not yet, OK? I want to figure this out myself first.”

There’s that half-smile again. “Very well, Dean.”

***

The four of them go out to dinner, where Gabriel makes more mess and noise than a five year old, then head back to the motel.

“’Night, Sammy,” Dean says when they get there.

“Yeah, sleep well.” Gabriel opens his mouth but Sam elbows him.

Once they’re in the room, Dean takes out all his guns, takes them apart, cleans each piece and puts them back together, then cleans his knives. He wants to make sure Sam’s asleep before he does anything.

When all of his weapons are cleaned and put away he turns to Cas, who’s been waiting patiently all this time.

But now he’s struck by nerves. Before it had been easy, but now they’re starting over and he can’t make the first move.

_Get a grip, Winchester, you’re wussing out!_

He grabs hold of Cas’ chin and kisses him, hard enough to make his intent absolutely clear.

Cas gasps softly and melts against him, his mouth opening, and, yeah, Dean doesn’t know why he was nervous.

His hands come up to Cas’ shoulders, shoving away that ridiculous trenchcoat. Why the hell did Cas have to wear so many clothes anyway?

He gets the trenchcoat off, and breaks away from Cas’ mouth to push his jacket off and start working on his tie.

Cas’ hands are on his back, under his shirts, peeling them off, and Cas’ shirt has _buttons,_ which he has no time for, so he just tears it off. From the noise Cas makes and the way he presses against him he doesn’t mind.

Cas’ skin is hot, hotter than skin has any right to be, as if he’s been in the sun all day. “Dean,” Cas gasps against his mouth, “Show me what to do.”

That’s quite possibly the hottest thing he’s ever heard, even as it reminds him that, shit, Cas has never done this before, this will be his first time…

He starts panicking, but Cas’ hands squeeze on his hips and he reminds himself that he’s good at sex, even though he’s only been with a couple guys before. It’ll be fine.

He leads Cas over to the bed and sits down, unlacing his workboots. Cas toes off his shoes and then gets rid of his socks.

Dean pushes him down gently to the mattress, sucking on his neck. Cas whines.

He spends some time finding out what Cas likes. His nipples aren’t that sensitive, but when Dean brushes over the small of his back he arches off the bed and gasps. Dean runs his fingers over Cas’ torso and underneath to his back until he’s panting, then moves downward.

He opens his pants, and, yeah, Cas is hard. He’s not sure what to do at this point. He could fuck Cas, yeah, or suck him off, but there’s nothing special about that, even if it’d be good.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

The words are out before he even knows he’s going to say them, but it feels right. He trusts Cas with everything else, so why not this?

“Yes,” Cas gasps.

“Wait a sec.”

He gets up and goes into the bathroom, digs around until he finds all the trial-size bottles of lotion, then comes back.

Cas’ pants are off, and he’s lying naked on the bed. Dean stops in his tracks, because _damn_ , _no one_ should look that good.

He sits down on the bed again and shucks off his jeans and underwear, then moves to sit next to Cas.

He opens one of the bottles of lotion and pours it over his hand. Cas watches curiously.

When he slips a finger in he has to grit his teeth because it burns, but after a moment the pain eases and he’s able to push in further.

It’s awhile before he’s open enough for a second finger, and by the time he’s got three fingers in he’s wondering if he can do this, but he told Cas he could fuck him and he’s not going to go back on his word.

“OK.”

Cas moves onto him slowly, and _Christ,_ it hurts.

Cas must have seen something on his face, because he stops and puts a hand to the mark on Dean’s shoulder.

Warmth spreads from the contact, relaxing him and numbing the pain. Dean closes his eyes.

_I do not want to hurt you._

His eyes shoot open, because that was _Cas, in his head,_ but any protest he might have made dies on his lips, because _he can see Cas’ wings._

They’re spreading out from his shoulders, almost touching the wall on either side of the bed, a great expanse of black shadow with green, blue and purple highlights.

 _What…?_ How is he seeing Cas’ wings? How does he still have eyes?

_You have my grace running through you. This lets you see my true form without harm._

Jesus, that warmth was Cas’ grace, and he’s so fucking beautiful, and Dean’s ugly, broken. He doesn’t have anything to compare to this to give Cas…

_Hush. I have seen your soul, Dean, and even blackened and shredded by forty years in Hell it was beautiful._

Dean closes his eyes, so he doesn’t have to look Cas in the eye, because if he doesn’t he’s going to start crying. _Dean Winchester cries his way through sex._

Cas seems to understand, because he pulls out (and had he been still all this time? Dean hadn’t even noticed) and thrusts back in.

“Oh, fuck, _Cas!_ ”

Cas throws his head back and moans and presses into Dean again and this time he hits his prostate.

“God!”

 _Dean,_ Cas says disapprovingly.

_Sorry, sorry!_

It doesn’t even occur to him that he didn’t apologize aloud, because Cas is pounding into him now and he’s making noises and saying things he’s sure will embarrass him if he remembers them later, but right now he doesn’t care.

When Cas comes the entire room lights up, and Dean wonders if anyone else will notice it or if it’s just because he has Cas’ grace in him that he can see it, but then he’s coming too and he decides it doesn’t matter.

Cas collapses on him then eases out of him and pulls away, his hand leaving Dean’s shoulder.

The rush of grace is gone, and Dean misses it for a moment.

He sits up and swings his legs off the bed.

“Where are you going?”

“Gotta clean up,” Dean answers, waving at the mess on his stomach.

Cas gestures and he’s clean.

“Neat trick. Remind me to thank Gabriel for charging your battery.”

Cas smiles. “Yes, there are things we need to thank him for.”

Cas settles against him and Dean sighs. “Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?”

“You know I love you right?”

“Yes, Dean.” Cas’ face is suffused with a quiet joy, and for a moment Dean feels an echo of the euphoria he felt when Cas’ grace was running through him.


End file.
